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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23452501">the new gods and the old loves</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_ia/pseuds/fab_ia'>fab_ia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>161 spoilers, Angst, M/M, Second person POV, bed sharing, established relationship but also not really but like sort of, i'll say that just in case but does anyone really expect something happy, that one line that collectively killed everyone? yeah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:34:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>403</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23452501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_ia/pseuds/fab_ia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"you aren’t sure when saying it became a thing that the two of you did."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the new gods and the old loves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>you aren’t sure when saying it became a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> that the two of you did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>no, that’s a lie. he’d know it was a lie, quietly point it out in that soft voice, so painfully resigned as he keeps his eyes trained firmly on the tape recorder in his hands. you’d laugh it off, you’re sure, but you can’t deny that it stings now, the fact that you don’t even have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>choice </span>
  </em>
  <span>as to whether your tongue wraps itself around half-truths instead of the bitter seeds of honesty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>you’re sure he knows that too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>you do know when it became a thing, because you’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>counting</span>
  </em>
  <span>, ever since that moment where you’d let it slip amidst the fog while your chest was too numb to ache with the admission, too numb to even begin to pray that he wouldn’t hear you, or that he wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> be able to make out the words. that was when it started. a timer on his heart, something he turned over in his mind so frequently that you’d almost wished he could still sleep if only so he wouldn’t be so obviously lost in thought beside you in the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>it’s not something that’s easy to suddenly get used to, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>for half your life, after all, you’d never really heard it; the voices meant to wrap their words in their gentle timbre were so frequently harsh instead. to hear it now, then, when you talk to him, when you lay beside him at night with the checked duvet pulled up to your shoulders, when you just sit quietly and think and he sighs and talks and brings you out of the murky depths of memory, the shoreline of misery you’re so used to dipping under.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>that night, there’s the tiniest bit of residual warmth from the tapes he’d had running earlier that day. not that ‘day’ or ‘night’ really matter, now, but you like to keep up the illusion of normalcy, if only for jon’s sake. you don’t blame him. not really. maybe a little. you close your eyes and remember tim’s laugh as you rest your head against the pillow and feel jon curl in on himself just a little more. he’s cold. his hands are shaking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“i love you,” he breathes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>you close your eyes and pretend he isn’t waiting for you to say it back, and you simply respond with “i know”.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>title is adapted from 'all my friends are finding new beliefs' by christian wiman, found here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/151735/all-my-friends-are-finding-new-beliefs</p>
<p>on tumblr @sciencematter</p></blockquote></div></div>
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